


At First Sight

by killerkitty15



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Dubcon Kissing, Light BDSM, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Requited Unrequited Love, Rimming, Roughness, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerkitty15/pseuds/killerkitty15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why Joker does what he does......hint, it's all for Him</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 3 years ago

For Joker, it was love at first sight.

 

The more accurate term would be  _ obsession _ , he acknowledged, but in his mind he called it  **LOVE** in big, glittery letters.

 

Before he became himself, he was someone else. He was an empty, dirty, plastic bag sitting on the sofa in a shit, shoe box sized, apartment on the shit side of town, bag of Cheesy Poofs open and spilling onto the carpet that smelled of piss and tobacco. He had been on drugs then, the hard shit, the shit that really made you think, and he was almost comatose, laying on the couch for what ended up being three straight days. Joker, he wasn't Joker than but he didn't remember who he was either, had his eyes on the TV because he couldn't be bothered to turn his head or look away, even from the boring, early morning news.

 

“It’s been a year since the masked vigilante has appeared in Gotham and already he’s made a name for himself. While the public calls him ‘Batman’, the police call him a menace! Action News has received special, anonymous footage of the Batman in action! Play the clip, Ted!” 

 

The screen turned to snow before flicking to an image of a roof top, illuminated by the building next to it. Thugs formed a circle and, in the middle, was a man in a black suit, a long cape and a cowl. Joker could see why people gave him the name “Batman”. He eyed the vigilante's body, clearly outlined by his suit. His muscles… biceps, abs, pectorals… Joker could’ve groaned. He wasn’t interested in men, he wasn’t interested anyone, but when he gave into those primitive urges, that was the physique he definitely went for. Fuck, it made him horny just thinking about what was under that rubber… Suddenly, the thugs rushed towards Batman, who lept in the air to dodge, planting his boots on backs, chests and heads for leverage. Joker’s eyes widened and he sat up, his bloodshot eyes glued to the screen. Batman moved…  _ the way He moved _ . It was indescribable. Joker felt his heart flutter, his lips parting as he inhaled shakily. His movements all predatory, darkness and rage in every twitch and shift of muscle. Oh, he didn’t have to talk to Batman to know that He had darkness pumping in His blood but, God, Joker wanted to talk to Him. Batman.

 

_ Batman Batman Batman Batman _

 

“You’re just like me…” he whispered, sliding off the sofa and crawling up to the TV, “you’re just like me, only… only, you’ve actually done it… you’re… remaking the world…”

 

“Ever since Batman’s first appearance, the police have considered him a criminal and are currently on a man hunt… well, a Bat-hunt, for the Batman.”

 

“Of course, Batsy,” Joker said, tears falling down his cheeks. How long had it been since he cried? “They wouldn’t understand… no, people don’t understand us, our dreams, our desires. You’re nothing but a toy to them…” He stood up on shakily legs, wiping away his tears and pulling at his clothes; they easily fell in shreds beneath his fingers and he walked naked to the bathroom. He tore open his bathroom cabinets, knocking things off the shelves as he tried to find what he was looking for. When he found the chemicals, he turned the hot water on in his shower, letting it scorch his skin as he scrubbed harshly at the dead skin that gathered on his skin like scales. “No one understands people like us, we’re the only ones out there,” he mumbled beneath the spray, his voice getting higher and louder, more hysterical and excited, “but…You must be so lonely…” He grit his teeth as the sadness spread and seeped between his ribs. “Oh...Oh! But it’ll be alright! You know why, Batsy? Can I call You Batsy? Because I’m coming! I’m coming and… we’ll make the world how we want it. I’ll be Your opposing force and then they’ll see, everyone will see, how we destroy their world to make a new one!” He laughed, uncontrollably, pouring bleach in his hair and rubbing it in until the long strands turned green and laughing as it burned a path down his skin. “Everything will be fine… because we’re the same, Batsy, and we don’t have to be lonely anymore.”

* * *

 

“Mr. Wayne, did you hear the news? Some guy broke into his old job at a lab and threw himself into the chemical baths,” Molly, a blonde haired receptionist that wore hot pink glasses and bright red lipstick, said as she handed her boss his mail, “sad, isn’t it?”

 

“It sure is, Molly,” Bruce Wayne said, leaning back in his chair, back sore from another night of crime fighting and late nights, “Why don’t we donate to a charity for things like that. Oh, and make sure to increase the security in our own labs. We don’t want something so tragic happening here, do we?”

  
“No, sir, Mr. Wayne! I’m on it!” 


	2. Catalyst

****

Joker put the finishing touches on his make up. The chemical bath had pulled the color from his skin, but he needed something more. Something that would make him stand out, something that would catch His eye. Yes, this would do nicely, the Joker thought, looking at his appearance in the small mirror, every time he went out it was like the first time. 

 

He got up off the floor of his hide out, hopefully it would be permanent, but Joker knew, from experience, that it would be pushing his luck. Brushing back his hair, he went over to the shrine in the bedroom; it was travel friendly so he could take it with him whenever he relocated. Black, purple and green candles sat on top the surface, pictures of Batman he had taken with a micro body camera and from other times when Batman was fighting other criminals or just staring at the skyline and brooding. He also had Batman’s blood pressed between two panels of glass, a piece of His cape he had managed to rip off and various other momentoes from their scuffles and battles with each other. Hell, he even had some Batman plushies that he bought -legally -from artists on Etsy, Deviantart and other various online resources.

 

Joker never thought he’d be able to feel so many things, but he did, and his feelings grew with every word He uttered and every kick He delivered to Joker’s body. It was everything he ever wanted! To be Batman’s opposing force, to feel their bodies collide in violence...soon… soon Batman would see how much they needed each other, how much they loved each other. 

 

“Are you ready for me Batsy?” the Joker whispered, his finger trailing along the edge of a picture, “because tonight’s the night…” 

* * *

 

It was a flurry of limbs and teeth, fists and feet flying, clothes tearing. Joker didn’t even use his tire iron, painted in his colors. It was hot and fast, leaving bruises and new scars. It made his blood heat up and, when he returned to the Batcave and the familiarity of Alfred’s tea, he was sore all over and his mind was blissfully blank. Bruce contributed this to the adrenaline of the fight and just the overall knowledge that he had protected Gotham in some way. He supposed he should’ve known that this reason was too easy to come up with but he stuck with it. 

 

Tonight, though, things changed. 

 

He threw Joker to the ground, hand pressing into his hips to keep him pinned, when he felt it, even through the material of his gloves and Joker’s pants. 

 

“Are...are you wearing panties? Women’s panties?”

 

“Oh, naughty! Did you peak?” the Joker purred with a manic cackle, “Yes I am! You like?”

 

Bruce felt his cheeks heat up, hoping it didn’t show, as the Joker moved, the hem of his pants riding down and exposing the lacy, black edge of the pair of panties and he pressed his ass against Batman’s protected groin. Abruptly, he shoved the clown prince of crime away from him, his blood pumping in the way it usually did when he fought only… different.  _ Hungry _ . 

 

“What’s wrong, Batsy?” the Joker writhed, flipping onto his back to stare up at the Batman, “Is fucking on the rooftop too risky for you? Too kinky? Or not kinky enough?”

 

“Shut up!” Bruce made to kick the criminal but failed when Joker grabbed his ankle, yanking him down so that he was resting on his back. He wheezed, the breath knocked out of him and he gritted his teeth, fisted his hands, as Joker crawled over his body and pinned him to the rooftop they were on. 

 

“Batsy…” he sighed, grinding his hips downward, clearing enjoying Batman’s stuttering breath, a moan ripping from his pale white throat, “I’ve been waiting for this ever since I saw you all those years ago… I was so lonely… as soon as I saw you, I knew. I knew you were like me and… I love this, I love us.” Joker leaned down with a smile that was too soft and gentle on his scarred face. “I did this to my face for you, you know. Before I was me, I never smiled. I wanted to make sure you always saw my smile. I dyed my hair green and threw myself in chemicals and put on make up and cut my face so that... so that my outside could reflect my inside. Like you do. We don’t have to be lonely anymore, Batsy.” The shock of the confession made Bruce’s entire body tense up, his toes and calves cramping from the pressure he put them under; and, when Joker leaned even further forward, he could do nothing but lay there. 

 

Joker’s lips were soft and scarred all at once. Bruce didn’t know how that was possible, but they were, and they pressed against his chastely, warm and wet with saliva and blood. It was the sharp, copper of the Joker’s blood, Bruce’s blood, their blood, on his lips and seeping onto Bruce’s tongue, that drew him back to the present and allowed reality to come slamming down onto his chest. 

 

He shoved Joker away, which only made the criminal roll over and begin cackling hysterically. “What is wrong with you?!”

 

“What’s wrong with me?” the Joker repeated in between giggles, “What’s wrong with me?! I’m crazy, Batsy, I lost my fucking marbles! And I’m so...so in love with you it hurts…” He trailed off, green hair sticking to the tears and spit on his face, and he became uncharacteristically serious and still. “I love you… and it’s the only thing that makes sense to me anymore.”

 

“I…” Batman took a step back, fearful, and the criminal only watched in quiet fascination, “I can’t… I don’t…”

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

Bruce Wayne jumped off the edge of the building, the wind cooling his hot face and fear cutting off his throat as those words repeated over and over.

 

_ I don’t believe you. _


	3. Aftermath

Joker was sitting in nothing but a large sleeping shirt, caressing his bruises and his cuts and his lips, gazing at his Batman shrine, holding a three foot plushie against his side and hiding his love struck smile in the fabric. “I knew you’d come…”

 

“Shut up, you psychopath.”

 

“If I’m a psychopath, what does that make you?” Joker wasn’t angry, wasn’t accusing. Only curious.

 

“I…”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, putting down the plushie by the rest of his shrine as he stood and turned to face his bat, “it doesn’t matter to me, what you are or what you think you are. I just want you to say… that you’re mine… or that I’m… yours at least.”

 

He didn’t answer. Batman took two large steps forward, His boots making the old floorboards creak, and wrapped His hands underneath Joker’s thighs. The touch made a shiver visibly travel along Joker’s spine, even though it wasn’t skin to skin. He lifted Joker up, not protesting as the criminal’s legs and thighs encircled His torso, and slammed His lips against the Joker’s.

 

It was a flurry of lips and teeth. Joker could taste blood but he didn’t know if it was his, from the way that Batman was trying to mark him, or Batman’s, from the way he was returning the favor, desperately. Hands grabbed flesh, pulled and yanked at clothes, He tore Joker’s shirt down the middle and bit at his deathly white neck, drawing blood to the surface and leaving a different type of bruise not only on his neck but down his sternum, sucking on his nipples until they were hard, wet and sore.

 

“Bats…”

 

Hands were in his hair and Batman was naked, hard muscle pressing into Joker’s lean body, and his mouth was being pried open, a cock shoved inside, black pubic hair tickling his nose and chin. Joker choked, drool falling from the corners of his mouth and down his jaw, tears spilling onto his cheeks, but he didn’t dare pull back; it felt so fucking good, sinfully so, having his mouth stuffed by Batman’s cock, forced to take every long, hard inch… He moaned around the flesh, letting Batman take fists full of green hair, fucking his mouth as if he were nothing but a toy… With a harsh scream, he felt his already aching cock twitch, moaning in surprised pleasure as he came all over the fresh (and stolen) sheets.

 

“Did you come just from me fucking your mouth?” He was mocking him, Joker knew, but that was alright, because he was a kinky fuck and anything Batman said was loving to his ears.

 

“Y-Yes…” Joker purred, when he was pulled far enough from the vigilante’s cock to speak, “When I became myself, I didn’t just get pale skin. I got excellent stamina.” He panted, mouth open, scooping up his come with two fingers, shoving them in his mouth to lick them clean; before he swallowed, he engulfed his Bat’s member for a second time, sucking off the precum so he could swallow both fluids together. Lewdly, he moaned, pressing open mouthed kisses to the member in front of him, desperately and hungrily, raising his eyes to meet Batman’s. “ _Fuck me_ ,” he begged, unashamed, “ _fuck me,_ _fuck me_ , **_fuck me_**!”

 

Joker lunged forward, teeth biting and scraping at His stomach, uneven nails scratching down Batman’s ass and legs, leaving bright, angry, red lines.

* * *

 

Bruce never thought he would be thankful to have two sets of handcuffs on his utility belt for… this particular reason.

 

“You _bastard_ _!_ You _fucking_ tease!”

 

The words were supposed to sound cruel and he was supposed to be offended, but he wasn’t and the words weren’t. In retaliation, he did spread the criminal’s ass cheeks further apart, so that it was uncomfortable. He shoved his face in between the ridiculously plush flesh, his tongue tracing the puckered hole before pushing in. The inside twitched around his wet muscle, joined by a gasp from above. He thrust his tongue in and out of the hot passage, biting at the taught rim and digging his fingernails into the Joker’s ass.

 

“Bats... _Bats…_!”

 

For the first time that night, Bruce grabbed the Joker’s member, jerking it with a fast and brutal pace. The clown prince of crime let out a frighteningly submissive keening noise, his hips jutting back into the vigilante’s mouth. With a low growl, he slapped the cheek to his left and Joker came with a startled yelp, sucking in air like he would never get enough.

 

“F-Fuck…”

 

“We’re not done yet, baby,” Batman hissed, sucking a hickey into the space where Joker’s ass cheek met thigh and the criminal whined, thighs shaking and cock twitching, “God, you’re such a slut…”

 

“I’m a good little slut for you,” he replied, arching his back when Bruce had gathered up his come on his fingers and pressing them into Joker’s entrance, “Oh, fuck, _fuck_ , **_fuck!_ ** Yes! Do it, do it, _do it!_ Fuck me! Fucking _break_ me!”

  
With a violent thrust of his fingers and a well placed stretch, Bruce hit the criminal’s prostate, making him arch his back, slam his hips backwards and scream.

 

* * *

 

He could hardly breathe.

 

His cock was throbbing in time with the member shoved up his ass and he struggled to open his mouth, part his mouth, and let out noises and words of encouragement, although it was more of the former than the latter. Joker dug his fingernails into his palms, drawing blood, his throat already raw but that was ok. He would be ok if his throat bled for all he cared. All that was important was that his left leg was hooked around Bats’ hips and his right leg was prompt up on the vigilante’s shoulder. Joker’s face was to the bed and most of his weight, that wasn’t on the Bat, was on his chest and his shoulders and they ached but they ached so good. 

 

“Bats -Batsy -oh God, oh fucking -you’re a god, oh my god!”

 

The man in question chuckled darkly, biting at the back of Joker’s neck and making him squeal and whimper like an animal. “You’re mouth is so dirty,” He hissed, free hand digging into Joker’s hip, pulling him back into his thrusts, “Do you touch yourself and think about us doing this?”

 

“Y-Yes!” Joker sobbed, trying to chase his release, “I do! I do! Come inside me, please! I need it! Come inside me right now!” Almost on command, He came, but gripped the base of Joker’s dick. It prevented his release and, although Batman’s groan and hot come made him shake and gasp, it turned into a vicious, violent scream when Joker found his release unattainable. Batman breathed heavily on the criminal’s sweat soaked back and Joker let out a sob. “You...Bastard…” Joker couldn’t stop the tears that came, couldn’t stop the hurt in his voice, “I-If you’re going to use me… a-at least let me enjoy it too!”

 

Unexpectedly, His hands caressed Joker’s stomach and chest tenderly, pressing gentle kisses down Joker’s spine and on the back of his neck, brushing away hair to reach all the sensitive spots. “It’s ok, baby,” Batman cooed, filling the criminal with warm and a soft, fluttery feeling in his breast, “You can come. But I want you to do it. Need you to listen to me.”

 

Obediently, Joker nodded, loving the way His voice sounded after sex, pleasant and fucked out. Loving. 

 

Batman unlocked the handcuffs, tossing them in the direction of their clothes, and guided them into a new position. He laid down on his back, hands on Joker’s hips and supporting the criminal as he straddled Batman’s waist. “I want you to touch yourself and tell me what you think about.”

 

The request -command? -was unexpected, Joker’s face flushing to the best of its ability. “Batsy… I…”

 

“Come on, baby, I know you can do it. You’ve been so good tonight.”

 

The thumbs rubbing circles into his flesh helped calm down the Joker’s racing pulse. Hesitantly, he wrapped a hand around his dick, gasping at the sensation and began to pump his hand. 

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

“You!” he gasped, arching his back, pressing into his hand and Batman’s hands, bracing himself on the broad, tan skin before him. God, he wanted to fuck it up. “I-I think of your tongue and your mouth and your hands...just… on me. You bend me in half and fuck me ‘til I bleed or you let me ride you and scratch you up. You call me all sorts of names and it makes me so wet and hard!” Unconsciously, his hand sped up, his hips rocking with the rhythm. “A-And sometimes it’s slow and hard and long and when we come we’re quiet but it’s so beautiful and I cry.” He pressed his thumb into the slit, shuddering. He was close. “And you hold me and stay. In the morning, I make you breakfast, naked, and when you wake up we have lazy, morning sex and then we eat breakfast and you fuck me on the counters or the table.” He hears Batman moan and he’s moaning, too, because what he’s imagining is just...so beautiful. “You hold me and you kiss me and-and you tell me… you s-say-.”

 

_ “You’re mine, Joker.” _

 

Just like that, Joker’s done. He comes, hard, aiming at Batman’s chest and His face and -just anything to fuck up that tan skin, make it his, make it theirs. The dark knight didn’t say “I love you” but it was close enough and that’s all that matters as Joker squeezes his eyes shut, sobs, and pumps his cock until its deflated, empty and sensitive.

 

“Bat-.”

 

The gasp is cut off as Batman pulls Joker closer, holding him so closer, the clown prince is worried that he’ll be absorbed. Without saying a word, the blanket is put over them, Batman taking up a good portion of the small bed, but Joker’s front is pressed His side, his head on Batman’s shoulder and using it like a pillow. 

 

“If you can walk tomorrow, I want pancakes.”

  
Quietly, Joker nods, hiding his face in his soul mate’s skin, covering it in butterfly kisses before falling alseep, soundly, for the first time in years. 


End file.
